


Between Doubt and Hope comes Endlessness

by Highuffle



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post-Episode: s05e14 The Red and the Black, first something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:20:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highuffle/pseuds/Highuffle
Summary: Right after the event of The Red and The black, Mulder and Scully try to make sense of their situation.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Between Doubt and Hope comes Endlessness

**Author's Note:**

> This references a deleted scene from The Red and The Black which I could not find online for the life of me, so for those of you who don't have the dvds, here's what happens in it: 
> 
> Mulder has just stormed off from the meeting with Skinner after the regression session and Scully comes after him.
> 
> SCULLY: Mulder! I know what happened to me. You know me better than anyone. I couldn't make this up.
> 
> MULDER: Listen to yourself, Scully. What happened to science, to proof?
> 
> SCULLY: Mulder, those memories were too real. They were too horribly graphic for me to make them up. I mean, especially me.
> 
> MULDER: You can't trust memories alone. Whatever you believe happened, it's gonna happen again. You can make up stories like Cassandra Spender, make believe it's good, but it's going to happen again, the same thing. 
> 
> SCULLY: Well, who's gonna make it stop?
> 
> MULDER: Nothing else matters to me now.
> 
> I'm not sure this is the exact transcription but it carries the point. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! A big thank you to EnigmaticDoctorScully and DanaScullyMakesMeFeelAutopsyTurvy for the beta, you guys rock!

15 hours in military detention: the cost for a security breach of an air force base and the hijacking of a military vehicle. They might have ended up with much more than just a warning if Skinner hadn't intervened to get them out, but still, between interrogations and negotiations, neither of them really had any sleep. The worst part was she and Mulder had been separated, the usual procedure, but it made every minute feel like two. They didn't get to talk about what had happened although, she really wanted to. Desperately so.

The sun is already high in the sky when they finally let them go the next day. She and Mulder drive back in silence to DC, both of them rendered mute by the fatigue that ha d settled in every muscle of their bodies, which she could not name at the moment if anybody asked her to. She pulls up outside his apartment and he gets out without ceremony, but before shutting the door he ducks his head back inside.

“Come on,” he says simply, motioning her to get out with a nod, tiredness palpable in his voice, “We're both about to drop dead any moment. I'm not letting you drive alone all the way to Georgetown.” he explains, for the sake of the surprise plastered on her face.

She briefly considers her go to response, but is too tired to think of an argument against – if there even is one. She gets out of the car and they make their way to his living room. The only light in the room except for the sun outside the window is the pale, ethereal glow of his fish tank. He discards his jacket and loosens his tie on his way to shutting the blinds when realization dawns on her.

“Mulder, you don't have a bed.”

“As alluring as that sounds, Scully, I think we're both too tired for to tango right now.”

“No, I mean, how are we gonna sleep?”

By way of answering, he slumps on the armchair next to his desk. “You'll fit better on the

couch.”

“Mulder...” the man didn't have a bed, and now she was taking over his couch, this didn't feel just.

“I'm not listening anymore, I'm asleep,” he says, eye shut, head dropping back into the low  headrest. She figures there is no point arguing so she removes her own jacket and shoes along with her nylons and unceremoniously collapses onto the cool leather. She reaches behind the headrest for the navajo blanket she knows will be there and curls into herself within it like a chrysalis. Slumber takes over her in an instant.

******

The sun is setting when he wakes up, he can perceive it behind the blinds, picture the hues of soft pink and orange behind scattered clouds. He likes the sky that way, it’s peaceful, antithetical to the constant turmoil of his mind.

Thanks to his fish tank’s glow he can make out Scully's fierce hair in the almost darkness, strands falling onto her smooth face bathed in Indian ocean blue. The brightness she exudes could never wane the way the sky does at twilight. As far as he is concerned, she is the living embodiment of ‘let’s shine a light on this’, and in that moment he feels he could be fine if she was the only light to ever shine on him again, UFOs be damned.

It's not often he can watch her sleep, see her at her most vulnerable, wondering what she dreams about, hoping it's something nice. Her steady breathing keeps him grounded, it reminds him she's here, she is alive once more after being the victim of something neither of them truly comprehend. It sickens him to think of her as a mere pawn in the game of chess between government shadows, but that chip in her neck bounds her to the board against her will. How many times had he been close to losing her in the past 5 years? How many times will he have to live through the same scenario? How many more moves till checkmate? Government or alien, alien or government, everything is mixed up and nothing evolves, but justice is still what matters. The truth is still the goal, for Samantha, for Scully.

_ Nothing else matters to me now. _

Watching her, he decides to give himself a break. At least while she's here he can put it all aside and focus on her. He stands up and goes to his bathroom for a shower, careful not to make too much noise as to not disturb the sleeping beauty on his couch. Once he's done and dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt, he glances at the clock, 7:13 pm, that's code for pizza. He pokes his head through the door into the living room: still asleep. Cautiously, he ventures to the hallway outside his apartment, grabbing his cell in the process. Once in the clear he passes his usual order: Scully's favorite, hoping she'll be waking up in time. Sure enough, as he re-enters his living room, he finds her sitting, stretching her arms high  above her head.

“Mulder, how can you sleep on this couch every night and not have some kind of back  problem?” she asks in a groggy voice, stretching her neck, evidently uncomfortable.

He shrugs and goes for the blinds, letting the soft late evening light in. “Iron backbone. It’s still more comfy than some motel rooms we've had the pleasure of sojourning in.”

The smallest smile appears on her face and despite the decreasing sun outside, things are a  little bit lighter. Inversely proportional.

“I've ordered pizza, mushrooms and all. It should be here soon, you can use the shower if you want.”

“I do, thank you,” and with that she stands up and disappears into the adjacent room, closing  the door behind her.

“You can just take whatever you need from the drawers,” he shouts after her. A second later he hears a muffled “OK!” and the sound of the shower turning on. He drops back on the couch and turns on the TV. He channel-surfs for a bit before settling on a rerun of a baseball game on the sports channel. Minutes pass. The pizza arrives. Scully joins him on the couch and he tries not to notice she's wearing one of his tee shirts and boxers even though he offered. 

The two of them eat while she asks questions about the game. If she is only pretending to be interested for his benefit, she's doing a pretty good job of it. After a while, she stops asking questions and they finish watching the game in comfortable silence. Later, when the game ends and he switches off the TV, she breaks it.

“Mulder, do you think we'll find Cassandra?” Her piercing blue eyes turn to him, brimming with uncertainties.

He takes a moment before answering, but even with his beliefs shaken to the core, he remains the same man. “I hope so.”

The way she looks at him, it's as if she is trying to infiltrate his thoughts, see what is going on in his head and try to make sense of it. He welcomes her help.

“What did you see in that truck last night?”

“I don't know,” he sighs, he really doesn't. “There was a faceless man, he was confined. Then the truck stopped and there was this man we'd seen before, the one that looks like a hit man, and then another faceless man, and then nothing.”

“The faceless man, did it look like his eyes and mouth were sewn?”

“There wasn't much light but... yeah, kinda. Is that what you saw during the regression?”

She nods, but only slightly, like she doesn't want it to be true. Suddenly she leaps up, running her hands down her face in frustration, or so it seems, sighing loudly. 

“This is too much.” 

She spins towards him, one hand soothing her hair back, the other on her waist. She looks utterly done. Before he has a chance to react, she goes again.

“I came here last night convinced that what I saw during the session was the product of my  imagination, that after I considered for the first time that maybe you could have been right all  those years, while you stopped believing it, I might add, I finally came around to a logical,  comprehensible explanation for what I saw, and now you're telling me you saw it too.” Her arms had been dutifully punctuating her every word before dropping beside her in resignation, her head following suit. 

“What the hell is going on, Mulder?” Her voice conveys what her body is already expressing. 

“I don't know. But we'll get to the bottom of this.” He stands up to go to her because once again he is lacking better words, and just puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. She lets herself lean into his chest, resting her head against his heart. He doesn't know what's going on but as long as she's here he's certain they can overcome anything. “We will.”

“It's hard seeing you like this you know.” She pulls back to look him in the eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“It's like I told you in the hospital. You were always unwavering in what you believed happened to Samantha and that was what pushed me to follow you. I never imagined how it would feel to see you reject that theory. It's like I lost my bearing or something.” Her gaze drops along with her voice but he wants her to see him because whatever he might say, his eyes will say it a thousand time better, so he lifts her chin up gently.

“Scully, I'm still the same, you know that. We're still the same.”

“I know it's irrational, I'm just confused.”

“Welcome to my world,” he smiles and she huffs a smirk. It's enough.

“I might not be sure about what we'll find but I'm still searching for the same thing. You're the  only thing that has changed for me.”

Her gaze turns inquisitive and he doesn't want her to misunderstand him.

“You give me hope for more, beyond the mission.” He pauses, contemplating if he should say more, and her expression turns so soft it wills him to go on. “You're a truth in and of yourself for me.”

It's only when she wraps her arms tightly around him that he realizes he has unconsciously stepped closer to her. Her head fits perfectly under his chin, his hands go to her back and in her hair like it's muscle memory. They've been here before, seeking comfort in each other's arms. He wishes in this moment that one day they will allow themselves to do it without the pretense of turmoil.

They stay like this for a minute but something feels different: he can feel her smile. It's  something he senses more than he sees, he should open an X-File about it. He feels the tiny smirk curving her lips and when she pulls back a little to look at him, her arms still around him, he sees it.

Her eyes are somehow a deeper blue than a second ago, it's even more easy to spot everything that is going on behind them, and the complete thesaurus of affection is reflected back to him. He could get lost in this cerulean sea forever, he would have if it wasn’t for the almost imperceptible tide of uncertainty crashing on the iris’s shore. He hasn’t time to swim against it because she's rising, slowly and unsurely, but it's unmistakable.

It comes to him in a second, and now time passes in slow motion. She's getting higher, her eyes caught in a storm, her lips part imperceptibly. Suddenly time fast forwards as he closes the gap between them, and then it stops.

As remarkable as kisses go, this one just destroyed the stratosphere. It's the most wonderful paradox between sweetness, novelty, tender exploration, and the feeling of every  cell in his body exploding like supernovas. Their lips move in tandem as if they've met a  thousand times before. New and familiar at the same time, and it's a good thing time has stopped because he wants to live in this moment forever.

After experiencing eternity, she breaks the kiss but neither of them open their eyes yet,  stealing a few more seconds of it. She lowers her heels back to solid ground, her breathing evening alongside his, and when they finally look at each other again, it's nothing but smiles. Shy, doofy, marvelously happy smiles. 

They've done it, they've stepped onto the other side of that enormous bridge called The Unknown together and arrived whole, and the land on this side is infinite. 

But infinity and eternity, they're one and the same. And so he jumps right back into it with her at his side. Always.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and make my day!


End file.
